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163. Slip Em a Fiver And Ask Em To Do a Favour.

Posted on: May 21st, 2013 by Colonel Crabtree-Smythe No Comments

Hello psychedelic explorerladies and gentleman, Summer is finally here so praise the great goddess and give thanks to mother nature as she opens her legs and reigns down gifts of life and forgiveness upon us all while giving a swift two fingers, the proverbial up yours to the planet Saturn and all those tied to its manipulative system of darkness and control. Now allow me to entertain and astound you with some inside information regarding our dear Sage Macorkadale. Sage has turned a corner and sees himself as some kind of psychedelic explorer. I watched as he put on his hat and coat and made his way to Chapel Market N1 to the “we sell weed paraphernalia” stall. He knew what he wanted and went straight for it. He purchased a nice metal pipe, a five pack of metal gauzes, and a clipper lighter. He told me he had met a youngster who had promised to sell him a small bag of skunk weed for twenty pounds. Transaction made he then decided it was better health wise to smoke the weed through a pipe rather than to roll a joint with tobacco.

Sage asked me if I would watch over him while he tried this new substance I agreed for sure but said I would only stay with him if I could have a smoke with him. All agreed we ground up the weed in Abdul’s grinder as we had decided to have a session at my Cardinal Cap alley abode. I popped a fair helping of ground skunk into the bowl of the pipe and took my hit. I filled my lungs with the nasty green smoke,I held it in allowing it to seep into my blood stream then blew out a plume of smoke filling my sitting room with the magic of nature. I could slowly feel the creep and the stoned-ness began to grip me I was slowly getting high, just the job.

Now it was Sages turn I prepared the weed for him filled the pipe and told him what to do and to be fair to him he went for it. He too filled his lungs with the green and after about two minutes I asked him how he was a if he felt any affect from the smoke,
“No I don’t feel a thing.”
was the reply so I let another minute or two pass then I asked again how he was doing as personally I felt well and truly spaced out and concluded that this skunk was pretty damn good.
“Yeah I feel a bit light headed, I want to go outside!” Sage replied
“Fair enough but give it a moment hold the pattern! You don’t want to end up in the fetal position on the pavement” I suggested. That’s when Sage went quiet and I noticed the color drop from his face.
“I’m thirsty!” he said with his eyes now firmly shut
“Is your mouth dry ?” I asked
“Yes!” was the nervous reply as he licked his now dehydrated lips and mouth,
“Do you want a cup of tea?” I asked
“Yes-no-yes-no -ok!” Sage was beginning to come across as panicky indecisive and stoned. So I motioned to Abdul to pop on the kettle. Sage then rolled his head eyes still closed and said…
“We are all stuck in a tunnel and we think that’s all there is, but beyond the tunnel is eternity, forever, I can see things in pictures.”
“That’s good.” I replied ” You’re on the right track!” Sage then started to play the imaginary bongos using his thighs as drums in fact his rhythm had improved somewhat from his normal out of time rubbish.
Abdul returned and placed a cup of tea on the coffee table.
“Tea my good man! Have a sip.” Sage oped his eyes unable to focus and picked up the tea and took a tiny sip he shook his head put the tea down and said
“No no I don’t want tea I’m thirsty, I need water!” So I got up and filled a glass of water for him and placed it next to the tea. That’s when Sage became agitated and said
“No I don’t want this,” as he took a sip of water “I felt paranoid I was worried about going to Waitrose but it doesn’t matter as I don’t have to go, no one is forcing me.”
“Don’t worry everything is fine!” I assured him but then he started grabbing his tummy and he exclaimed that he felt sick.
“No I think I’m going to be sick! I couldnt go to the shops even if I wanted”
“You will be fine.” I told him and I watched him as he lay on the sofa in the same position for two hours pretty much saying nothing yet every so often opening his eyes with a jolt explaining that he was, “Going to vomit!”

He lay there like a hospital patient post op no colour in his face. He was having what is known in the weed smoking fraternity as a whitey- our Sage was popping a whitey. Typical of the man he had held it together for over two hours but as the clock struck 4.00am he stood up looking like a zombie and made his way to the bathroom and proceeded to fill my beautiful sink with vomit. I was not angry and did not have a go at him as he was not really in control of himself god bless him. I left him to it and went to bed only to be woken at 7.00am by Sage who had written a poem and was desperate for me to hear it. I listened and was quite impressed. I wonder what the fucker would produce if he started with a few of the tryptamines that are on the market.

Anyhow here is Sages weed inspired poem.

Is This The Dawning Of The Age of Aquarius.

We have forgotten who we are and where we came from
and now the gods ignore us.
They were never at Auschwitz or the Gulags
because we ask for divine protection without connection.
We are not in tune with our gods because we go against the natural order
our vision dissipating as the waters of tranquility cloud over.
Confusion reigns as corporatist kingdoms of church and state rule
they control with the intellectual bile of ages past.
They talk freedom as they try to close down the enlightened amongst us
while the scribes and pharisees live in a royal abundance.
They feast at the top table with promise of the prize
these demigods of fear with their doctrinal metaphoric mumbo jumbo.
We make our own monsters in our own time
the karmic forces of change are not preordained.

So if this is the Age of Aquarius it really does scare me shitless.

onwards and upwards eh people onwards and upwards…

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